A momentary anger
by planet p
Summary: Very, very AU; when Raines is offered a new subject, Timmy realises that he has a few problems to work over if things are ever going to work between them.


**A momentary anger** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.

* * *

_1964_

Timmy glanced at Raines, starting to feel very, very sick, but if his 'mentor' showed any sign of having taken notice of this, it was lost on Timmy. Apparently, Raines's attention was too tightly focused on this new child.

It had been a month since Tory had left them, and Timmy still felt sad over his new friend's departure. But not so sad as to play ignorant to the fact that this boy – Kyle – was going to prove a very big problem to whomever took him on. He'd been removed from Granville's care because of the care that hadn't been taken of him, and, though externally he looked fine enough, he was damaged more than anyone could say; he had come to Granville as a 1-year-old; that damage would not be going away anytime soon, if at all.

As the Tower doctor, Brown, talked to Raines of the Tower's decision to remove Kyle from Granville's care and replace him into the care of another, Timmy felt the overwhelming urge to just take Raines's hand and tell him, 'No.'

Raines was not like him, he wasn't perceptive the way he was, and he knew that taking on Kyle would only end up hurting them all in the end. Even if Raines hadn't been his father, he'd have felt strongly that it was the right thing to do to caution his 'mentor.'

In any case, he'd never played favourites with Raines because he was his father; in fact, he felt that at times he had been more harsh on him than on others, though it couldn't be helped. The fact of Raines's expression of the anomaly that they shared had seen to that, coupled with his upbringing in the Center's largest, most successful rival, T-Corp. An upbringing which had taught him a healthy dose of _Your best isn't good enough_ wherever Healers were concerned. _Better_ was the only acceptable outcome, and preferably _the best_!

Healers were held in high regard in his home corporation, much more so than Empaths and, as a consequence, he found himself harbouring a certain amount of bitterness over that fact.

Raines was a Healer, back in their home corporation, he'd have had everything that he could have wanted; he'd never have been treated as a second-class citizen. It escaped Timmy even why he had left – he had left for a very damn good reason, but had Raines? He'd gone with the strangers to protect the others, to protect his family; who had Raines escaped to protect?

Likely no-one more than himself! To Timmy's mind, that was beyond selfish; beyond despicable! He should have known better, the training had obviously failed to rub off on him sufficiently – if they'd been back home, he'd have personally complained and recommended reconditioning! Four years old or not, even he could see that William Raines was far from mentally healthy!

And now he was playing at an idiot! And for what purpose? Because he missed Tory, because Timmy wasn't good enough for him – because an Empath just wasn't anything so interesting!

Timmy felt the overwhelming urge to rip something to shreds, and quickly rushed to quash it. It was a feeling he'd been feeling more and more lately, and surely it can't have helped that Raines was his father! His actual, real father! It can't have helped that his own _father_ would have preferred another child to even Timmy!

He had a sneaking suspicion that Raines also had a sneaking suspicion; one after the expression of his anomaly. He wasn't, after all, merely an Empath. Empathy was, in fact, his secondary expression. He was first and foremost a Reaper, and though he'd been too young to begin serious training as one, he'd been placed in the subsidiary facility he had as insurance, to guard the real Empaths against any possible danger, as a 'sleeper' Empath.

He was Empathic enough that he would easily pass as an Empath with the proper training, which the facility provided for T-Corp, but not so Empathic that he was to be any great asset in Empathic regard.

He had a notion that training in his Empathy had also been a means that the company had seen to tempering his Reaper abilities, to grounding him and keeping him from losing it completely.

The problem was, sometimes it only made it worse!

Like now.

He felt very, very much like leaping over the table and ripping Kyle's stupid, little throat out – he just didn't think he'd feel so good about it afterward. And he was pretty sure it wouldn't be allowed. (Apart from the fact that he was also trying to keep the secret of his double expression to himself as best as he was able.)

He wanted to tell Dr. Brown to peddle his loony little child elsewhere, that Raines was his mentor, and that he wasn't available for little creeps like _Kyle_, but, of course, he kept everything inside, sure that if he pandered to it, it would only get worse. He'd had enough times where he'd wanted to take Raines down a notch or two as it was, he didn't need his Reaper side getting the better of him in front of a _Tower employee_! He didn't fancy himself on ending up on some M.E.'s examining table, thankyou very much.

So, forcing back a very creepy growl, he let everything just slide over him, letting his Empath side take him some place far away from the room in which he sat with his mentor, Brown, the child, Kyle, and the couple of Sweepers, and imagined that he'd drifted so far away that he was with Tory again, and they were happy, just like they had been before. (Though, realistically, he would have found fault in the assumption that Tor had ever felt happiness; his brain had been that thoroughly damaged that regaining the ability to breathe of his own accord had been miraculous enough in itself, let alone learning to walk.)

With a mental sniff, Timmy returned his immediate senses to the room. Thinking about Tory only hurt; Tory was no longer with them, he'd been sent away. Timmy had had siblings in T-Corp, but not 'real' siblings as in the sense that they'd been related by parentage. And even though Tory and he hadn't shared parentage, either, he'd felt strongly connected to the boy. They'd been almost the same age, with a month between them, and though Tory had been elder, Timmy had somehow felt the elder of the group. He'd helped Tory to learn to walk again – he'd even chosen his new name so that he could be sent off into the world outside of the Center to be taken care of.

In a way, he thought, Tory had been his perfect little toy, or like a pet puppy. His reward for being as brave as he had been, and defending his family from the enemy! And now what was he going to be left with! Kyle!

If he'd wanted, he knew that he could have summoned the feeling of physical illness at the thought. The plain and simple fact was that he just didn't want Kyle – in fact, he wanted nothing to do with the other boy at all!

Perhaps such thoughts were heartless, he thought, but how could he help it? He was a Reaper, and if this new boy wished to gain his caring, then he'd have to either have to prove stronger than he, the dominant, or completely submissive, as Tory had been. Even when he had been able to stand, or walk, he had never had the inclination to do so unless given a nudge to first do so; a fact which had particularly delighted Timmy.

He had a feeling, now, though, that Kyle wasn't going to take shit from anyone, and that caring just wasn't on the top of his agenda, at least for the next hundred years or so. And whilst Timmy was assured that he might live so long, no crappy Pretender had ever proved as hardy or long-lived. Pretenders died, that was the only thing they seemed to have in common with one another.

Timmy took a deep breath and fought to regain control of himself. It was getting more and more that his Reaper side was surfacing, and more often than not aggressively. It was not all that a pleasing outcome for Timmy, who, given the chance, would have blanched at the mere thought of blood. Timmy alone did not like bloodshed; Timmy and the Reaper could have thought of nothing more pleasant.

Timmy could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, and told himself to remember the relaxation techniques he'd been taught back home; relax, calm down, take it easy. Nobody was going to get hurt today, least of all _Kyle_.

_Robert Joseph_, that was the name he'd given Tory. Robert, for his father's middle name, and Joseph because it sounded soft and cuddly and warm and could be abbreviated to Joey, which was the name of a small kangaroo, which was soft and cuddly and warm, unless it was threatened, and then it had the claws to back it up. The perfect name for a child, he'd thought. If Tory had been his child, and his woman had named him Robert Joseph, he wouldn't have been displeased. Though, he conceded, he was a little young to be thinking of having children yet.

The other Empaths would have made faces, the deceitful little creeps! 'Your woman? No one person can own another person,' they would have said, and he'd have said nothing in reply, because he'd have been one of them and it had been his job to keep them comfy and unassuming to the dangers that lay just beyond the doors of their home, because it had been his job to blend in. And maybe, maybe a small part of him had wanted to be an Empath – to fit in; to not want to rip and hurt and kill – much more than a Reaper.

Tory had been good for him; Tory had made him want to feel nice things, warm, caring feelings, but Tory was gone.

As he thought on it, he realised that Tory had also been bad for him; he'd made him want to be, more than anything, a feeling thing; an Empath, even. And, in turn, his Perception had filled in the slack that his Empathy was just never going to fill. The fact was, he just wasn't all that great an Empath. His Perception, however, had done funny things – and now it was trying to tell him that Kyle needed to be cared for, that he needed to be made to realise that it was in his own best interests to get better, and to want to care about others, too, to reconnect with what it was to be a part of the human race.

_Damn you, Tor!_ he thought. _Damn you for making me think you all innocent and harmless! Damn you, you evil little thing!_

He sniffed, drawing a glance from Raines – Was he perhaps coming down with something? – and sat very still until Raines once again returned his attention to perfect, wonderful, loony Kyle!

_Drop dead_, Timmy thought, finally allowing his gaze to fall onto Kyle's face. _You're not Tory, and you never will be! Don't think you've got me fooled for a second, you little maniac! Not on your life – try anything funny and I'll rip your throat out faster than you can yelp, 'It's rabid!'_

Then, in all friendliness, he offered the other boy a smile.


End file.
